Winter Discoveries
by Magnets in Winter
Summary: AU. Steve is the priest in his childhood parish and Bucky is his friend and one of the parishioners. Things between them heat up after some secrets are revealed.
1. Chapter 1

A/N - so this is the first chapter of a short AU story about our favourite Captain and his Soldier.

Steve is the priest in his childhood parish and Bucky is his friend and one of the parishioners. Things between them heat up after some secrets are revealed.

Comments are always welcome.

Hope you enjoy

Father Steve tries to focus his mind on prayer as another lazy Saturday afternoon drags on with him spending long hours in the confessional waiting for the occasional parishioner to come and pray for forgiveness. Like every Saturday Steve wonders if it was a smart decision asking to be the priest of his childhood parish. He wonders if the parishioners don't want the kid from down the street listening to their confessions. He is awakened from the gloomy thoughts by the opening of the side doors of the confessional.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned."

Steve is surprised by the voice coming from the other side of the partition. He's known that voice all his life, and in the last three years he'd spent as the priest here he'd never heard it in confession. He looks up and, since the doors of the confessional weren't closed all the way, he can see the face of his childhood friend, James, bent down, waiting for his response.

"Yes, child. How long ago was your last confession?"

"Last week."

The answer surprises Steve, it is not usual in this day and age that young people go to confession that often. Worry creeps up in his mind, but he remembers his role in all of this and tries to switch from being a friend to being a confessor. "I see. And since then have there been things that have weighed on your soul?"

James is quiet for a while and Steve is about to ask him if he is ok when James quietly whispers, "Yes… I have been fighting with this thing… this thing inside of me… this demon."

Steve's worry deepens. What could be bothering his once best friend that he hadn't noticed? Has he been so blind that he hadn't noticed his friend's suffering? "Each of us faces our own demons but can you explain yours? How are they affecting you?"

James' answer comes out as a rushed whisper, "It's the demon of lust, and craving, and hunger… It's always there, always in me, whatever I do, however I try to quiet it, it never goes away."

Steve is taken aback but soon recovers and asks, "And what is it that you crave?"

"It's a person I know that I crave. And I keep fighting it but I am growing weaker with every breath."

"Why do you fight it? Wanting someone is not a sin, unless she is not free to be wanted. Have you tried talking to her?"

"It's not… I mean, I can't, I can't, ever."

"So she is taken?"

"No." This answer confuses Steve, and James stops the sentence there. Steve decides to wait for the rest of the explanation even though his mind goes a mile a minute considering all the options. He listens intently and can hear James start to speak a couple of times, but each time the words die on his lips and are replaced by a sigh and a lowering of the head. When James does continue the words are barely audible, "It is not a woman."

Realization hits Steve square in the chest and his heart breaks a little for his long time friend. James is in love with a man and his own beliefs are at war with his feelings. The situation must be tearing him to pieces. He can see James cover his face with his hands and can hear him murmuring to himself. Steve then does something that he was warned not to do, he addresses James directly, "Bucky, it's ok."

This statement startles James and he gets up to leave but Steve continues, "Please, don't go. Let's just talk. Come on." James returns to his seat and turns to face the partition.

"I bet you now find me disgusting and you'll start telling me how I'll burn in hell. Well, go ahead. It's not like I haven't heard all of it before, and it's not like I haven't been telling myself that for a while now."

The pain and bitterness in his voice worries Steve and he chooses his words carefully, "We can't choose who we love." James is surprised by what he hears, and is about to throw back some derisive remark when Steve continues, "I know what Church says about this, I know. But I also know you. I know you wouldn't be this affected by a fling or a passing thing. You must really love this person, and love is never a sin. I can't even imagine what you must be going through, this must be excruciating for you."

James breathes a sigh of relief and starts to explain, "It's been… well, it's not been easy I can tell you that. The last year has been the worst year of my life and there's no one to talk to."

"And you said you haven't told him, you haven't acted on your feelings?"

"No, I can't do that to him. It is enough I hate myself, I couldn't bare it if he hated me or worse if he returned my feelings and ended up hating himself. He is also a Catholic and I know this would not go well with him."

"Can I ask you something? It's rather personal, so I'll understand if you don't want to answer."

"Ask away, it's not like things can get more awkward than this."

"Have you had feelings like these before, towards men I mean?"

"No, never."

"So, this guy must be something special to make you fall in love with him like this?"

James smiles for the first time since entering the confessional, "Yes, he is. He is kind and understanding, smart and funny and polite… Yea, can't really say anything bad about him."

"Except that he doesn't see how you feel about him."

"That might be the best thing about him..." James and Steve are both quiet for a while and James is the first to break the silence, "He just pops up in my thoughts all the time. I can be playing the piano and suddenly it's his fingers I see on the keys moving deftly. When I cook I catch myself wondering whether he would like the taste of the meal I'm preparing. And the nights are the most difficult. I lie in bed and try to fall asleep but I am constantly haunted by the idea of falling asleep in his arms, feeling his chest rise with every breath against my back, the palm of his hand on my chest keeping count of my heartbeats…"

Listening to James, Steve suddenly feels crowded in the small confessional, hot and unable to breathe. It is like the spoken words have created a world before him and the world is beautiful. He is surprised that he can see the life James would create for that man and even more than that, he is surprised that he feels angry that James can never have that.

After not haring anything from the other side of the confessional James starts apologising, "I'm so sorry, Steve… I mean father… Are you ok?"

"Oh, hmm, yes, I'm sorry." Steve fake coughs trying to calm his voice. "I'm ok."

"I'm sorry. I really shouldn't be talking about this here."

"It's ok. It's what you feel. And I understand. I truly do understand the temptation of both the flesh and the mind. Those things are not foreign to us priests. But we all must know how to prevent those thoughts and cravings from taking over our entire lives. We are more than our skin, more than our lips and our eyes. We're more than our physical bodies. We are more than the excitement and the hunger we feel. We must fight that. We should try and re-focus ourselves. We can perhaps try and find solace in other things. Reading or perhaps music for you."

"I will try."

"Good. And know that whenever you need someone to talk to I am here for you. Whenever you feel like it's getting to be too much, you can come to me, both here in the confessional or out there. For now your penance is…"

When James leaves Steve stays in the confessional trying to come to grips with this thing he has just learned about his oldest friend. The nature of the confession asks of him to forget what he's learned and not to allow it to affect his behaviour towards the man outside the confessional, but how can he forget? How can he ever look at James and not see the things inside? How can he not try and find who has captured his heart when saying the mass? He will need to work hard on this.

A/N 2 - chapter 2 should be out soon.

thanx


	2. Chapter 2

A/N a bit of Bucky time I think.

* * *

Bucky's slender fingers traveled the black and white keys once again at 4 in the morning. It's the third time this week that he can't sleep, and it's only Thursday. He tries to focus on the melody he's playing but all he can hear in his head is Steve's voice as he says the mass. He bangs his fists against the piano keys and he feels the discordant sound in his entire body as pain shoots through him. He takes a deep breath and holds it in and counts to 20 to calm down. He prays it works this time. He returns his focus to the sheet music before him. He doesn't really need it for this piece, he's known it for years but there's a kind of comfort in seeing the well worn pages, all the notes and his and his former teacher's handwritten directions above the lines. His teacher was an odd one. She would write "salty", "let this sing", "velvet", "storm" and "smoke" above the notes, but Bucky understood her because he too felt the music with all five senses, not just the hearing. He always went to this piece when he needed to satisfy that hunger inside because Beethoven was like his own soul had spilled on the paper.

He placed his fingers back over the keys and started the piece from the beginning again. Just a couple of sounds at first and then the build-up. He always held his breath when the "storm" part came and he did it this time as well. He held his breath, closed his eyes and let the fingers do what they knew best. And as the "storm" calmed down, the image of the tall body wrapped in the black button-up shirt with rolled up sleeves popped back into his head. He saw Steve as he was when they were in high school. Always with a sketch book in his hand and a pencil stuck behind his ear. He heard Steve asking him if he could sketch his hands again saying he needed the practice. He saw Steve of today and the worried look he's had on his face ever since the confession and …

He could not take it any more, "STOP!" and swiped the sheet music off the piano, upturned the stool and started banging against the keys. Hitting the keys harder and harder, ignoring the pain in his hands, trying to stop the pain in his chest and then he heard it. He heard the discordance become stronger. He heard the snap of the key and he just collapsed on the floor. Music all around him and his hands against his chest. He cried himself to sleep.

He woke up a couple of hours later wincing as he observed the mess around. When he saw the broken piano key the tears came again. "Great! Just what I needed. Another thing in my life ruined. I really am a useless idiot." He slowly crawled around gathering the music looking for his Beethoven. He sighed a sigh of relief when he saw that the paper was not damaged. "At least one thing survived last night. Thank God for small miracles."

The week continued the same. He would try to sleep but after a couple of hours he would give up. On Friday and Saturday he went walking around the town, but even that was denied him on Sunday by the heavy hail storm that hit the town. He was lying in bed awake and nothing he tried could take his mind off Steve. He had seen him that morning during mass. He was calm as always. His sermon was short but to the point. Steve's voice had burned him from the inside out. He had forced himself to sit through the mass and not run away like a weakling that he was.

But now, in bed he could not run away from his own thoughts. His piano was still destroyed, his TV had suffered the same fate a couple of weeks prior, and he just couldn't read. So he was lying on his bed staring into the darkness but seeing Steve. Seeing his warm eyes; his arms spreading out as he prayed; his neck long as he looked up at the raised host… He imagined what that neck would feel underneath his fingertips. He imagined those strong arms embracing him, holding him as their bodies moved together. He imagined what those eyes would look like close up, would his pupils dilate as he came… And his hand was slowly moving down to his already half hard cock. He screamed and stopped himself. He rolled to his side and curled up into fetal position yelling at himself, calling himself "weakling, idiot, depraved, filthy" and every other name he could think of.

Eventually the name calling stopped and he became aware of his hand resting on his ribs and he started moving it slowly imagining it was Steve's hand comforting him. He could not fight it any more and he allowed the other hand to sneak under the waist band of his pajama trousers finding the warm flesh there and encircling it. He bit his lip to stop himself from voicing his pleasure. He started moving the hand slowly, gently up and down, twisting a bit at the upward motion. His thumb sneaked across the tip of his cock and spread the precum gathered there. The pain in his lip from the biting contrasted with the exquisite pleasure he felt spreading through his entire body. He knew he was close and he allowed himself to fantasize about Steve. He imagined Steve's hand on his dick, Steve's voice in his ear, Steve telling him he loved him, Steve's teeth on his lips. And with that last image he came all over his hand.

He took his cum covered hand out of his trousers and in a post-orgasmic moment he imagined the cum there to be Steve's. He wondered what it would taste and was about to bring his hand to his mouth when he stopped and disgusted with himself he ran into the bathroom and went into the shower. He turned the cold water on full blast and stayed under the spray in his pajamas crying and eventually turning the water off and spending the rest of the night in the shower leaning against the wall ignoring the cold spreading through his entire body. He felt this was a deserved punishment for the entire week of being weak.

* * *

Thank you all for reading. Would love to hear your thoughts. thanks


	3. Chapter 3

Sitting in his office, facing the window, Steve is trying to do a sketch of the gray skies of the approaching storm when the ringing of the phone startles him and causes his hand to slip and a long line now runs across the paper.

"St. Anna's, Father Steve speaking."

"Father Steve?" The quiet voice on the other side is unmistakeably James'. "Do you perhaps have time this afternoon? I feel I need a confession, or a talk. Something."

"Of course, James. I'll be in my office all afternoon so just come whenever you want."

"Thank you" there is an almost imperceptible pause before James ads "Father," and hangs up.

Requests like this one are nothing new for Steve, there are often people who need to talk to someone who will listen (but who are unwilling or unable to talk to a shrink), but this was the first time James has ever done that in the three years Steve's been back. It will also be the first time the two of them talk since that confession two weeks ago. Since then Steve's seen him during mass and he's noticed that he hasn't been looking that well. All of that put together with the topic of their last conversation causes Steve to worry about James. Perhaps he's done something about his feelings, perhaps the other person had found out.

Soon Steve's wonderings were interrupted by the doorbell. The sight that greeted him only increased his concern. The person standing at the door was more like a ghost of James than James himself. His hair, usually meticulously combed back, was dishevelled, and the paleness of his face was even more prominent because of the dark bags under his eyes.

"Hi, Steve….umm I mean Father." His voice a harsh whisper.

"Steve's ok, come in, come in James, please." The two of them slowly take the stairs up to Steve's office where Steve invites James to sit in on one of the armchairs around a small side table. Steve remembers that when they were young, James used to like drink strong black tea with a splash of milk when he was upset "Would you like a cup of tea or something else? You really don't look that good." Steve asks concerned.

"Well, thank you Father!" James retorts sarcastically, but quickly realizes his mistake and that Steve spoke out of genuine concern and not to make fun of him. "I'm sorry. I haven't been sleeping well lately. And yes, I'd love a cup, but only if you'll join me."

"Of course I'll join you, you know I can't say no to tea." Steve says with a small smile and leaves for the kitchen. When he returns a couple of minutes later he finds James by his bookshelf and is at first worried he might be looking through his sketchbooks, but then he sees that it is a thick old tome. "I see you've found something that interests you."

James is startled and leaves the book on its side on Steve's desk. He apologizes as he slowly walks back to the side table and as he walks by the bookshelves he caresses gently the spines of the books. "Oh, sorry. I'm a weak person when it comes to book shelves...and other things." The last part of the sentence he says so quietly that Steve almost doubts he's heard right. He decides to ignore the statement for now, placing the two cups of tea on the table. He walks to the bookshelf to see what was the book that so interested James. He is surprised to find it to be one of his books about Islam. He looks at James questioningly "Why choose this book out of all of the others?"

"It intrigued me to see that there are books about Islam and other religions on an office bookshelf of a priest."

"Well, before I felt the call of the Church I my plan was to study comparative religions. I guess the interest is still there. Also there are benefits to knowing things about other religions and other world views. I am a Christian, but I believe that researching other religions other traditions makes me a better Catholic, a better priest, and ultimately a better person. "

"That makes sense."

"You can borrow it if you'd like."

"That's ok. I haven't been in a reading mood lately." James says as he reaches for the cup.

"What's wrong, James?"

"Why do you do that?" James raises his voice for the first time since entering the office.

"Hey, what? What did I do?"

"Why do you call me James? You never used to call me that. I was always Bucky to you."

Steve notices the hurt on James' face and he leans forward and for a moment considers his next words, "It's not like it used to be. I am not that kid from then. You are a parishioner and I am the priest now. I can't think of you as Bucky. I should not."

This last statement causes James to look up and he questions, "And why not?" but Steve does not answer. Instead he takes a sip of the tea.

They sit like that in silence and drink their tea, Steve for James to begin talking and James trying to gather the courage to speak. He finally succeeds, "you remember my problem, the one I mentioned you during our…"

"I remember."

"Well, those thoughts are still with me. And usually I can manage to ignore them. I play the piano or I read, but lately this hasn't been working. I can't focus on the words on the pages of books and my piano is… being repaired just now."

"Repaired? Why? What happened to it?"

"Well, it sort of… I sort of broke it." This worries Steve almost as much as the bags under James' eyes. James continues to explain "I was just so frustrated from the lack of sleep and from the images in my head that I decided to take it out on my most valued possession of course. Idiotic, right?"

"Not the smartest idea you've ever had, that's for sure. But you're not the first person to ever take his pain out on the things he loves, or in your case on yourself… I know what your piano means to you. It is more like a part of you than a possession, right?"

James rests his head in his hands and his voice trembles as he answers, "Yes. You can't imagine how I felt seeing keys broken so. I bet you never did anything that stupid."

Steve smiles, "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I've done stupid things many times. But, let's get back to you, yes? What is happening. You say you haven't been sleeping, you can't read, you damaged your piano… Things are really bad, aren't they?"

"Yes, they are. I don't think I can take it for much longer. I don't think I can keep fighting this. It's getting harder and harder saying no. I've done things…" James stops there and just stares at the now empty tea cup.

"Did you tell him?"

James is quick to reply, "Oh, no, no. I couldn't do that to him!"

"So, what have you done?"

Steve notices a blush of embarrassment spreading on James' cheeks, "I've sort of been giving into the temptation… on my own."

And now it's Steve's turn to blush, "Oh I see." Steve stops for a moment considering what to tell James. He understands the difficulty of trying to resist one's urges. He knows what it's like fighting one's body. It is the most difficult thing he's ever had to learn – saying no to his own body and mind. "You know that is not the solution to the problem, it just prolongs it."

"I understand that. But the respite it offers me, even for a couple of minutes is priceless. Those fleeting moments afterwards when I don't think of nothing, when my mind is quiet and empty – those are the moments that are the only ones in which I don't hate myself. When I give in I can breathe again. In those moments the world disappears and only he remains before me." James' voice becomes softer, more sensual. Steve looks at him and sees that his eyes are closed and his fingers are on his lower lip when he continues, "I can see him then and in those moments he does not hate me, he loves me. He tells me that, he holds me and I swear I can feel him on my skin, I can taste him, I can…"

Suddenly James stops and both he and Steve shuffle around in their seats trying to ignore the awkward moment that just happened. "I'm truly sorry, Father. I shouldn't be saying this, to you of all people!"

James starts to get out of the chair but Steve reaches towards him, touches his arm to stop him. "Hey, it's ok. There's no need to go. I understand, I'm human after all. People often think of us priests as being made of stone, unfeeling and unaffected by our own bodies and minds, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. We too are haunted by demons. Often the same demons as other people, as you…"

James returns to the chair and considers Steve's words for a minute.

Steve continues, "we as human beings need, crave intimacy. Most of us do, at least. We need to feel that connection with another person, both physical and emotional connection. It is normal."

"In the past, how did you defeat that need? How did you manage that knowledge that you were saying no to that connection?"

"It took me some time. It was not easy and I wouldn't say I defeated it, I perhaps have it under control."

"If only I could do that, but it seems that I can't any more?"

"But you used to? What changed ?"

"It's the force with which these feelings come. They overwhelm me. It's like I become someone else. And that other person I become, sometimes I can't recognize myself… but then there are other times when it's like I remember perhaps being that person once, a long time ago… I'm sorry, I'm not making sense, I know."

"No, no, that's ok. It's strange, I know. I too sometimes feel like there's two of me: one that I keep on the outside and that I want to be, and the other one which rears it strange head every now and then. The trick in my case is to remember to think about all the people around me, all the people that depend on me. I focus on that and I come back. I don't know if that helps or not, but it's what works for me."

James looks at Steve like he's grown another head. "Hey, I said us priests fight the same demons like everyone else, you thought I was joking?"

"No, no, it's just… it kind of felt like… no, no." he shakes his head. "To get back to the thing, in the past I would usually sit at my piano and play away the images and the feelings. I would pour them out through music. But since I'm an idiot I can't do that right now."

"Of course, I see. That can easily be fixed."

The surprise is written all over James' face, "How?"

"Well, there's this," Steve reaches into his pocket and takes out a ring of keys and picks one off the ring and hands it to James.

"What is this?" James asks confused.

"The key to the church organ, yours to use whenever, except when there's a mass or something like that, of course."

James looks at the key incredulously, "Really?"

"Really." Steve smiles at him.

"Thank you, Father. Thank you."

"Please James, there's no need to call me Father. It's kind of strange hearing you call me that."

"Ok, I'll stop with the 'Father' if you stop with the 'James'. It's either both of us or neither."

Steve pretends to think hard but eventually smiles and says, "Ok, _Bucky_."

"Ok, _Steve_. Could I play now?"

Steve just smiles at him. They share a look and then they both get up and go into the church so Bucky can start playing immediately. When Bucky sits at the organ and places his fingers on the keys he closes his eyes and smiles


	4. Chapter 4

Three hours after leaving Bucky to play the organ, Steve returns to the church. There is no more music and he fights the sadness that wakes up in him when he realizes that Bucky must have left without telling him. He bows his head towards the altar and heads to the balcony to make sure the lights are off and the organ is closed. When he arrives he is greeted by an unusual sight – Bucky is sleeping by the organ.

Steve quietly approaches Bucky and takes his time looking at him. He looks so peaceful asleep like that. There's no trace of that tired scowl that has marred his face lately. Sleeping like this he looks so much like the Bucky of their youth. The Bucky from before everything that had happened to him. For a second Steve the pain that ripped his heart apart when he decided to leave that life and become a priest.

Steve gets on one knee next to Bucky and without thinking reaches out to move the lock of hair that had slipped across Bucky's face. At that first touch Bucky wakes up startled and it takes him a moment or two to realize where he is.

"Sorry." "Sorry." They both apologize at the same time and then start laughing quietly. Bucky smiles a big smile when Steve continues speaking, "So, I see you're sleeping again."

Bucky rubs his eyes and yawns. Seeing Bucky like causes Steve to remember his old self. He remembers all those other times when he would see Bucky waking from a sleep like that. All those times when he and Bucky would fall asleep next to each other on a couch while watching a movie or on the floor of Bucky's room after one of their marathon conversations. He remembers all those times when they shared secrets with each other, all those times when they comforted each other.

"Hey! Steve, are you ok?"

Bucky's voice brings Steve back to the moment and he shakes his head to clear his mind. "Yea, umm, I'm ok, sorry."

"Where did you go to? You were miles away."

"Oh, nowhere, nowhere. So, a good sleep? Floor wasn't too uncomfortable?"

"Uh, the best sleep I've had these last 10 days. And no, floor was not too uncomfortable. It's not like this was my first time sleeping on the floor, right?"

"Umm, yes, not the first time." Steve fights the memories from returning. He gets up and starts looking around the organ searching for the power switch.

Bucky rushes after Steve. "I'll take care of that, it's the least I can do."

"Oh, ok, I'll go back to work then. You keep the key and make use of it, please. I don't want you to suffer, just try not to fall asleep again."

"I'll do my best, and thank you once again, Steve."

"No need to thank me, Bucky… you never need to thank me." Steve says that and returns to his office leaving a slightly confused Bucky by the organ.

Bucky returns to the church to play the organ almost every day for the next week, he only skips Saturday, Steve presumes it's to avoid all the people that are there on Saturdays preparing for the Sunday service. Steve in turn returns to his sketchbook every day while Bucky's playing.

One day Steve is haunted memories from his past and he decides to leaf through his old sketchbooks. He gets one of his first sketchbooks. The drawings he finds there reflect his life before the seminary: full page drawings of his old apartment, school football game, his parents, his friends; and every now and then a detail of a body: a hand here, a jaw line there, an eyebrow and an unfinished eye… And all of those details familiar as if they were of his own body… all of them Bucky.

Bucky: his best friend, his confessor, his protector countless times when he was too weak to defend himself, and the only person he desperately wanted to protect and had failed to when it most mattered.

Steve is disgusted by the memories of his past failures and he closes the sketchbook and hides it in his desk drawer. He returns to the shelf and takes a sketch book he started during his last year at the seminary. The drawings in this one calm him down a bit, make him focus back to being the person he is today and not the one he was before the seminary. He looks at the drawings of the scenes from the Bible and he is back in control. As he turns the pages the elements of his ordination appear: the chalice from his first mass, the rosary he received from his mentor, the long black cassock.

Seeing the drawing of the cassock makes Steve run his fingers over his chest, over the buttons that travel the length of the cassock – those 33 little knots that somehow serve to remind him to keep himself hidden, locked away. This is his uniform, his armour.

As he approaches the last pages of the sketchbook his arrival to the parish is marked by drawings of the altars and the statues from the church. Again there are scenes from the Bible, but there is one more thing that he notices in those drawings for the first time – he sees Bucky. He sees elements of Bucky on almost every page. The saints have Bucky's nose, the honourable women from the Old Testament have Bucky's cheek bones and eyes, the women from the New Testament have Bucky's full lips.

Anger rises up in Steve and he throws the sketchbook across the room. He has spent the last nine years trying to get Bucky out of his head and out of his heart but this simple thing shows him all his efforts were in vain. He sees now that he can try his hardest to forget all the things they went through, to forget the old dreams, the old conversations, but Bucky will always be in everything he does.

Then the realization hits him: Bucky has always been and will continue to be a part of him, for as long as he lives.

Over the week Steve tries to go back to his parish work. He hears confession from some of his regular parishioners, he works on his Sunday sermon, he prepares the discussion topic for the next youth group meeting… And while he works on those things he tries not to think about Bucky. He tries not to think of Bucky sleeping on the floor, his lips slightly parted in sleep, his hair over his face, the shirtsleeve rolled up revealing an intricate tattoo design on his left arm. He tries but he fails. His failure made more obvious by the fact that in the middle of his sermon outline there is a sketch of the Bucky's tattoo design.

For a moment he traces the lines on the paper and allows himself to imagine tracing the design on the original canvas. Then he curses silently and rips up the paper. Abandoning all the work until tomorrow he leaves his office and heads to his bedroom.

He skips dinner in hopes that an empty stomach will distract him from his memories but they come all the same. He starts praying the rosary to calm himself and to chase away the images that threaten to appear. When that too fails he realizes he needs to let off some steam, he needs to run, so he takes his cassock and trousers off and changes into a hoodie, tracksuit bottoms and running shoes. Once he is out of the parish building he puts the hood up and starts running.

The night is cold like it usually is in the middle of December. As he runs he can feel the cold bite at his face and his hands and he relishes the pain. The pace he set himself is guaranteed to exhaust him and he pushes himself faster, harder. Throughout the run Steve repeats the words of the Act of Contrition in his head.

The repetition of the prayer, the rhythm of the running and the pain spreading all over his body succeed in distracting Steve from the thoughts that had tortured him the entire evening. When he reaches the park he stops for a breath and as soon as he stops the thoughts are back and this time with a vengeance.

He remembers vividly the nights he used to spend at Bucky's, the nights they would lie on the floor of Bucky's room, sharing one pillow, their heads touching. He remembers their conversations about their future. He remembers waking up the following morning, his arms around Bucky and Bucky's around him. He remembers how in sleep they had reached out for each other not wanting to separate for a moment. He remembers counting minutes until Bucky wakes up and wishing he could hold him like that for the rest of his life. He remembers moving away from Bucky when he'd sense him waking up for fear of rejection.

The pain the running and the cold had caused him is nothing compared to the pain those memories inflict on him. He collapses on the path, his knees hitting the gravel hard and he screams into the night, "NO! Stop it! I can't take it anymore! Not again!" He puts his head in his hands and he can feel the tears coming.

"Father Steve?" a quiet voice startles Steve.

Steve looks up towards the park bench a few meters ahead of him and tries to see who it is although the voice is unmistakeable, "Bucky?"

* * *

Some have asked me when these two are finally going to "do it".  
Well, obviously not in this chapter, sorry, but very soon, I promise. In the next chapter or the one after that! and those chapters will arrive before the weekend hopefully.  
Thank you all for readying and if you have time I'd love to hear your thoughts on all of this.


	5. Chapter 5

"Father Steve?" a quiet voice startles Steve.

Steve looks up towards the park bench a few meters ahead of him and tries to see who it is although the voice is unmistakeable, "Bucky?"

"Steve? Are you ok?" Steve can hear Bucky rushing towards him and in a second he feels Bucky's hands on his shoulders. Steve looks up and can see the worried look on Bucky's face.

"Yea, ummm I'm ok. You know, just… things."

"Just _things_? You were screaming at the darkness, man. And I thought I was the crazy one between the two of us." Bucky forces a laugh but Steve can still hear the concern in his voice. "What's got you out at this time of the night?"

"Well, like I said. Stuff." Steve gets up and brushes the dirt off his knees. They look at each other for a moment and then Bucky invites Steve to take a seat at the park bench.

When they sit down Bucky looks at Steve and waits for him to speak, but when he does notspeak, Bucky decides to go straight to the point, "Would you like to talk about it?" Steve still doesn't say anything, "Or, what say you to this, we'll just sit here and be quiet and perhaps that'll be enough. If you feel like talking, OK. If you don't I'm ok with just sitting here. The only important thing is that you know that I'm here for you, you do know that, don't you?" Bucky looks at Steve and notices a slight nod of Steve's head.

They sit on the bench quietly, thoughts rushing through both their heads. Bucky trying to understand what is torturing this man next to him, and Steve fighting the impossible urge to tell Bucky everything just to be able to quiet the voice in his head that's screaming at him. Steve leans forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands grabbing, almost painfully, at his hair.

After some ten minutes Steve finally speaks and his harsh voice breaks the silence unexpectedly, "It's just stuff in my head, you know? The voices I usually manage to keep quiet have become…"

"Unmanageable?" Steve just nods. "I remember you saying that you too had your own demons. Is that what it is?"

"Yea. The thoughts in my head are becoming louder, screaming at me. And you know that ignoring those thoughts only makes them louder, angrier, almost vengeful when they re-appear. I can't concentrate on things I'm supposed to be doing. The thoughts are always there, always. It makes no difference whether I'm awake or asleep. They are with me always."

"Have you been sleeping?" Bucky asks and Steve looks at him in surprise, "It's just that I've seen you look better than you've been looking lately." Still Steve does not answer, but this time his face starts showing other emotions Bucky does not recognize at first. He continues talking "It seems like you're having similar problems to mine…"

"Yes! Like _your _demons!" Steve's loud answer and his getting up from the bench and pacing take Bucky by surprise.

"Steve, hey. Don't take it out on me, it's not my fault!"

On hearing this Steve turns around and comes closer to Bucky, leans over him and hisses into his face, "Of course it is!"

"What?" Bucky asks in a whisper.

Steve retreats immediately, turns away from Bucky and begins a string of apologies, "Sorry, really, no, it's not you, not you: I didn't mean it, not like that. It's my fault, all mine. It's always been my fault. It's me who's ever been the weak one. Too weak to speak up, too weak to fight, too weak to be a man, too weak to defend myself, too weak to save the ones I love, to save…"

Steve stops there because again he can feel Bucky's hand on his shoulder again. He turns and faces Bucky with a question, "Why am I like this? Why couldn't I have been born stronger?"

"What do you mean, Steve? You're the strongest person I know! If you think you're weak, I'd hate to know what you think of me!"

Steve places a hand on Bucky's cheek and says with conviction, "No! You're not weak! You're strong, honest! After all the things you've gone through, you're still here and an amazing person." Steve's hand moves to Bucky's chest and he can feel the strong heartbeat there when he continues, "You're a true person, true to yourself. Never _ever _doubt that!"

Bucky is not able to respond to this, he just looks at Steve and tries to make sense of everything he's just heard. While he's lost in the memory of the words, Steve moves closer and asks softly, "Why? Why can't I keep the promise I'd made? Please, tell me."

Bucky can feel the tears well in his eyes from all the pain he can hear in Steve's voice and see on his face. He returns the gesture and places his hand on Steve's chest, wanting to focus fully on the two of them, and whispers, "I don't know, Steve. I wish I had the answers you need. I hate seeing you like this." They both take a couple of breaths and then Bucky continues, "The promise you mention, are you having problems with the Church?"

"No, not the promise to the Church, no. It's something else, but it doesn't matter, really, I'm too weak to keep promises it seems." Steve leans his forehead against Bucky's and after a moment he looks Bucky in the eyes and says quickly, "I might as well break all the promises in style, no?" Steve leans forward connecting their lips in a gentle kiss.

Bucky steps back from the kiss as if it burned him, "What are you…" but Steve doesn't allow him to finish his question. He grabs his head and pulls him into another kiss, this time not a chaste toughing of lips, but a searing, demanding release of years of tension. Steve pushes his tongue into Bucky's mouth almost forcefully, wanting to feel more of this man in his arms.

After the initial surprise and after tasting Steve, Bucky wakes up and responds in kind. His hands hold Steve's head closer; he bites at Steve's lips and then licks the bitten spot. They kiss and moan in the darkness, their hands roaming each other's bodies, the voices in their heads finally quiet.

Bucky patiently waits for someone to pick up the phone, "St. Anna's, Father Steve speaking."

"You just left?" Bucky asks quietly and tries to calm down while he waits for Steve's response. When the response does not come he continues a little more agitated, "You just kiss me like that, in the middle of the park, at night, no warning or anything, and _then _you just run away!? Why?"

"Umm…"

"That is not a word, Steve! Use your words, I know you're good with those! What were you thinking?!"

"I think it's kind of obvious that I wasn't thinking… I'm sorry, truly, Bucky. I don't know what came into me. I don't know why I did it. There was just this thing in me that wanted to get out. I couldn't stop myself… Sorry, really. I know you don't need this, what with you being in love with that guy and all that. Sorry…"

"Ok, ok. But it's not only that. What if someone had seen us? It could have really hurt you, Steve."

"Oh, that."

"_Oh that_!? That's your response? You risked who you are! For what? For a quick reprieve from the _demons_? For a quick lay?" Now there is no chance of Bucky calming down after hearing Steve's response.

"NO! No! Not that!"

"No? What, you thought that since you know my secret you could use that?"

"How can you say that? NO! Do you really think I'd do something like that to _anyone_, let alone _you_?"

"No… I don't know. Why don't you explain to me what you were thinking."

There is a long silence on the other side and Bucky considers how to coax a true answer from Steve. He takes a couple of deep breaths and remembering that pain he saw in Steve's eyes he calms down enough to say, "Please, Steve, talk to me. I'm really worried."

"It's been some time now that I've been feeling this thing inside, this restlessness awakening. I'd spent so long, _so long_ trying to suppress this thing; years trying to drown it out with prayer and fasting and discipline. I'd even thought that I'd freed myself of it," Steve laughs soft painful laugh, "but it turns out I was wrong. It's still here… Still torturing me…"

"So you decided that the best thing to fight that was to kiss the first person you run into?"

"No! Not the first?"

Bucky considers that answer and remembers Steve's words from the other night, "So, when you said it's my fault, you meant…?" Bucky does not finish his question but waits for Steve to explain while his head swims with possibilities.

"I'm really sorry, Bucky. You don't deserve this. You have your own demons to fight. I shouldn't be adding mine as well. I assure you, it won't happen again, I swear."

"Don't swear, Steve. Just talk to me and it'll be ok."

"No, no it won't be ok."

"OK, have it your way, you stubborn punk." Bucky is quiet for a minute thinking about the things that Steve'd said that evening and he remembers one more thing he has spent the last two days wondering about, "What was that promise you mentioned?"

"What promise?" Steve asks a little too quickly and Bucky knows that he remembers.

"You know very well what promise! You said there was a promise you were breaking and that it wasn't your priesthood. What promise was it?"

Again Steve is quiet and this time Bucky decides he will not be the first to break the silence.

"You remember that summer after high school, after our accident?"

Bucky is surprised to hear Steve mention the accident. He has always avoided the subject. "Yes, of course I remember." Bucky answers and unconsciously rubs his scarred left shoulder.

"Well, I kind of…"

"What did you do?"

"I might have done…."

Bucky's brain rushes towards a conclusion and incredulously he exclaims, "No, please don't tell me you made some stupid promise while I was at the hospital!"

"It wasn't stupid!" Steve defends himself. "You were dying! And I could do nothing! Nothing but pray! So I prayed and threatened God and yelled at God and finally… I bargained!"

"You idiot! What did you do? What did you promise?"

Bucky listens to Steve's quiet response and he can't believe the words he hears, "I kind of gave up on some of my plans and promised to become a priest."

"STEVE! You idiot! How could you!? You do realize this is not a movie! This is real life! How could you give up on everything over some stupidity? How could you give up on family, on a wife and children? All for something you could not influence!"

"It worked! You lived and that is all that mattered."

"It's not all that mattered!" Bucky takes a deep breath and holds it for a few seconds. "What about you? What about your life? I know how much you wanted a wife and kids. And to give all that up for me, why?" His question is calmer this time.

"I didn't really give up on all that, not really. "

"What do you mean?"

"I never wanted a _wife_."

Bucky tries to understand Steve's words and when he does he breathes, "Nooo."

"Yes, so you see, when I told you I understand how you feel about that man, I really meant it."

Bucky still can't believe it, so for a moment he forgets about the promise and everything from the other night and tries to remember Steve from high school. And when he does he is suddenly aware that Steve never used to talk about women, never mentioned he liked any of their friends or classmates, never. "Why did you never tell me?"

"I was scared you'd reject me."

Bucky understands that fear. He waits a moment and then asks, "Was there ever anyone? Were you ever with a guy?"

Steve's response is quiet and Bucky can almost see the blush on Steve's cheeks, "No, I never had the courage to tell him."

This piques Bucky's curiosity, "Who was he?" Steve is silent and Bucky considers the options, "Bruce? Tony? Clint?"

"No. Not them."

Bucky is about to ask about more of their old friends when Steve says, "You."

Bucky's breath leaves him in a gasp and he fights to keep a firm hold on the phone. Steve's voice brings him back to the moment, "Bucky? Bucky? Are you ok?"

"Come over." Bucky says firmly and hangs up the phone.

So, I hope you liked this little thing.

The next chapter should be out by Wednesday and there should be some hot action in there.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve can't take it anymore, anymore of those questions from Bucky about his love interest from their youth. He feels the answer bubbling out of him. He wishes to scream it out so the entire world can hear, so the entire world can know that he is strong, strong enough not to lie to the man he has loved his entire life and for whom he has done everything he has ever done. He takes a deep breath hoping beyond hope that the man on the other side will not hate him forever and whispers, "You."

Steve expects Bucky to hang up the phone or at least to scream at him or something and when he hears nothing but a gasp he starts to worry. "Bucky? Bucky? Are you ok?"

"Come over." Steve is so stunned by Bucky's reply that for a moment he doesn't notice that Bucky had hung up and he keeps talking into the phone, "Now? Why? Bucky? Bucky?"

He considers the order he had just received. He considers everything he'd be risking by going and then he considers everything he'd be risking by _not_ going. He could lose everything he is now or he could lose everything he had always wanted to be. Either way he'd end up losing. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and decides.

Two minutes later he is buttoning the last of the buttons on the "armour" that is his cassock as he leaves the parish building. He decided to face to the cold night without a coat in hopes that it will bring some clarity to his confused mind.

During the well known walk to Bucky's apartment Steve tries to formulate a plan. He tries to think of the words he will use to explain to Bucky everything he's ever felt for him. And he has the words ready, the best explanation ever. It is simple, true, honest, brave, but when he is in front of Bucky's apartment door he can't remember any of those words. All he is aware of is his hand raised by the door, about to land a knock but never finishing the movement. He hangs his head in embarrassment and is on the verge of turning around when the door opens and Bucky's soft voice greets him.

"Come on, I've waited long enough for you to knock." Bucky doesn't wait to see if Steve is following him but simply enters the apartment and settles on the comfortable looking couch.

Steve enters the apartment timidly and he is surprised by how little his second home from childhood has changed in the last nine years. The same mismatched furniture, the same photos on the walls, the same blue curtains. The only change he sees is the new couch and that instead of the old liquor cabinet there is a small piano against the side wall of the living room.

Steve takes another look around and then sits on the other end of the couch. He doesn't face Bucky when he speaks, "So…"

"So… me?"

"Yeah, and look…. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said it. It was stupid, telling you it was you, and it was stupid of me telling you any of that." Steve still can't look Bucky in the eyes. He fears the resentment he might see there, or fear, or rejection.

"It's not stupid, Steve."

"Right! Knowing that your best friend was in love with you and that he became a priest as a part of a bargain is not stupid. You must be ecstatic to know that not only is your priest friend a pervert who used to watch you sleep, but also that he is a _delusional _pervert who thought that his actions and promises could change the destinies f those around him!"

Steve leans forward hangs his head in defeat. He is exhausted. The lack of sleep and all the excitement of talking to Bucky and all the fears and hopes which are at war in his mind and in his heart cause tears to come to his eyes. He fights the tears away and succeeds for a while, but then he can feel Bucky move on the couch, place a hand on his back and start talking with gentle urgency.

"I never want to hear you say those things about yourself! Ever! You're not delusional, you just have faith. And as for the pervert part – if you think you're a pervert than so am I."

Steve turns his head and faces Bucky. He can't fight the tears anymore and he lets them slide down his cheeks. Bucky notices them and with a soft sigh he moves a hand forward and cups Steve's face, wiping away the tears with his thumb. He gives Steve a small smile and asks, "You were in love with me?"

Steve's voice trembles and he can only manage a short "Yes."

"I must have been so blind not to notice that. And I considered myself a good friend."

Steve breathes in to calm down a bit and explains, "No, I was just very good at hiding everything. There were so many things I needed to hide."

"And you watched me sleep?" Bucky smiles again.

"Yeah, I told you, I'm a pervert."

"Nah, just a cute creep. You know, I always had this strange feeling that you held me while we were sleeping. I could swear in the morning that I felt your arms around me, but of course I dismissed it as a foolish dream, wishful thinking."

Steve looks away and admits, "I'd wake up holding you and then continue until I felt you waking up."

"You feared my reaction?"

Steve just nods in reply and the movement reminds the both of them that Bucky's palm is still against Steve's cheek. Steve looks up and what he sees on Bucky's face gives him courage to act on what he feels. He forgets everything and slowly moves his face against the palm until his lips are giving Bucky's palm a kiss. When the kiss lands Bucky closes his eyes and his words come in a breathless string, "You didn't need to do that." Steve is confused for a heartbeat, but then Bucky continues, "I've spent my entire life dreaming about you holding me while we sleep. I'd go to bed wishing, praying that one day I might feel you fall asleep next to me, to feel you holding me."

Bucky leans forward, stops a breath away from Steve's lips and confesses, "I've loved you my whole life." On the last word their lips meet in a chaste kiss. When the kiss ends he moves back a bit and looks Steve in the eyes. Steve asks hopefully, "So, the person you talked to me these past weeks is..."

"You." Steve smiles at that one word, so simple and so meaningful. The same one he used to confess to Bucky, it's only fair it seems. This one word gives him all the encouragement he needs to re-connect their lips.

Steve's kisses are almost strong enough to bruise. He turns and his hands sneak around Bucky's head holding him impossibly close. They both push forward wanting more of each other, but then Bucky concedes and starts moving back, lying down on the couch. They shuffle clumsily for a couple of moments as is to be expected but finally Steve settles above him, feeling their bodies aligned, fitting like he always hoped they would.

Steve's kisses push Bucky further down. His teeth graze the plump lower lip and when Bucky makes a sound of approval Steve moves away and whispers, "You have no idea how these pouty lips have been torturing me lately." Steve moves his weight to his left arm and lifts the right one to hover over Bucky's lips. He traces the cupid's bow with the tips of his fingers, circles around and over the lower lip feeling the wetness of their kisses there. He pushes the lower lip down a bit, begging for entrance.

"You know when you were describing that _man_ you wanted, when you were describing the dreams and images of the two of you? You would trace your lips with your fingers and all the time I was listening all I could think about was that I wished those were my fingers! That it was my tongue licking the same route! That those lips covered every inch of me!" and again he dives in for a kiss. A kiss that takes Bucky's breath away and makes him dizzy.

Steve's tongue enters Bucky's mouth and when he tastes Bucky it is his turn to gasp and moan. Their tongues meet in a forceful dance, each wanting to taste more, to have more. They kiss and bite, they lick and suck until they are completely breathless.

They stop kissing for a moment but their hands continue their roaming. Steve's hands move without a thought, but Bucky's are on a mission. He moves them up Steve's arms, feeling the bulging muscles under the harsh cloth, over his shoulders, around his neck and when they reach Steve's hair, Bucky grabs it painfully and pulls his head back, "I… I love you, Steve."

Steve's hands stop, Steve stops, looks Bucky in the eyes and says, "I love you too, Bucky."

They hold onto that moment for a while and then Steve lunges for Bucky's mouth, kisses him and mumbles against his lips.

Soon, Steve's kisses move away from Bucky's lips and end up on his neck. When he reaches a spot just above where Bucky's collar bones meet, Bucky moans and arches his back and it is the most seductive thing Steve has ever witnessed. He pulls away and with a mischievous smile asks, "Mmmmm, there?"

Bucky replies urgently, "Yes, there, there," and pushes Steve's lips back to that same spot. Steve obliges and kisses, licks and sucks on that spot. The sounds that Bucky makes go straight to Steve's already painfully hard cock. He pushes his crotch against Bucky's and for a second they both need to stop because they feel too dizzy to continue.

When he resumes his kissing, Steve moves away from the magic spot and starts unbuttoning Bucky's shirt and lands kisses all the way down his chest. When he unbuttons the last button, Steve leans back on his knees and sits up. His hands move to spread open Bucky's shirt, grazing his nipples on the way up.

Bucky's moans are suddenly quiet and his hands are on Steve's, stopping him from reaching his shoulders and from taking the shirt off. Steve is stunned by this change in Bucky and when he looks at Bucky's face he notices insecurity and fear written all over it. Quickly Steve moves his hands away, shuffles back and starts apologizing, "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. It's too quick. Please, let's just stop…"

Bucky's hands go after Steve's to stop him from moving all the way away, "No, it's not that, trust me, it's not. It's just…"

When Bucky doesn't finish, Steve leans forward and places a soft kiss on the middle of his chest and says, "What, please, Bucky, what did I do wrong?"

"Nothing wrong, it's just… the accident, remember? There were consequences."

"Scars?" Steve for a moment feels that old self hatred that he's felt all these years for allowing harm to come to this man he loves.

"Yes, and more. I've sort of added to the scars over the years."

Steve understands now, "The tattoo?"

Bucky is the one who is the surprised one now, "How in the hell did you know that?"

"Well, when you fell asleep in the church your sleeve kind of moved up and I saw the start of the design around your wrist."

"Oh, and you don't mind?"

"Why should I." Steve smiles. "Show me, please."

Bucky takes Steve's hands and places them back on his chest and nods his head once in a _yes._ Steve moves the shirt apart and off Bucky's shoulders revealing the intricate pattern of scars and ink covering Bucky's entire left arm, from the shoulder to the wrist.

Steve is left speechless. The scars are scattered like constellations in a galaxy with the dense centre being over the shoulder. The scars are raised above the pale skin and surrounded by a thin curving line of ink. Every few centimetres there is a burst of ink, like it had dropped from a leaking fountain pen. The result is a fascinating universe of pain and beauty, of red and black and white.

Steve does not think but just places his lips over the scar that is the furthest down on the arm and kisses it. He then travels up the arm kissing his way over the ridges of the scars, licking along the lines of ink. When he reaches the largest scars on the shoulder he stops and kisses and murmurs "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

Bucky's hand on Steve's head makes him look up and Steve again has tears in his eyes. "This is all my fault, Bucky."

"No. How?"

"The accident, Bucky! It was all my fault. I was an idiot! I was too weak!" Steve moves back and sits against the far end of the couch.

"You're being an idiot now, Steve. How? Please explain it to me! How is this your fault." Bucky shuffles up and kneels in front of Steve. "I was the one who was driving! I was the one who put both of us in danger! I was the idiot!"

Steve shakes his head vehemently as another tear slides down his cheeks, "No. You were only driving because I was too drunk to drive myself!"

Bucky comes closer, embraces Steve and holds him tight as he can feel him trying to get away. "No, Steve. It would have happened the same. The truck would have still hit us, only it would have been you in the hospital and not me, and I wouldn't have been able to take that."

"But," Steve begins anew, but Bucky doesn't allow him to continue.

"No, no. Stop. It's not your fault."

Steve's cries slowly stop as Bucky holds him and rubs his back. When Steve is more calm, Bucky moves his lips to Steve's ear and whispers, "Please, love, stop. Stop blaming yourself. Please. Promise me you will. Promise me, love."

Steve feels goose bumps spreading all over his body when he feels Bucky's breath against his ear and he nods in consent.

The nod turns into a nuzzle which again wakes up their need for skin to skin contact. Only this time it is Bucky who explores the other's neck. He sucks and bites and then soothes the spot with a kiss. Bucky's kisses take him to the front of Steve's cassock and the line of buttons, and he starts unbuttoning them, revealing a crisp white t-shirt underneath. After some ten buttons Steve can hear Bucky growl in frustration and exclaim, "You had to be 10 feet tall! Why are there so many buttons?"

Steve smiles because he is sure Bucky knows the idea behind the buttons, "nothing to do with height, love. Just with Jesus and the 33 years and that old story."

"Oh shut up and help me!" Bucky pleads and Steve gets off the couch and slips the cassock off. He moves to take the shirt off as well but Bucky's hands are next to his and he takes it off, slowly revealing a surprisingly toned body underneath. "Fuck, you're gorgeous." Steve blushes at the compliment. "Who would have thought that under those priest garments hid a body of a god."

Steve waits to see if Bucky will laugh and make a joke of the compliment and when he does not make one Steve leans forward and kisses him. They are back on the couch, a tangle of limbs at first, but then two bodies moving against each other, lips devouring, nails scratching. Bucky moves to align his hips so their hard cloth-covered dicks rub against each other. They feel like they are teenagers again. It's like a rite of passage, dry-humping. And they are loving every second of it, but soon it is not enough and Bucky's hands dip below the waist of Steve's trousers and grab at his ass. This makes Steve grind harder and moan profanities, "Fuck, yes. How good. Fuck, so hard. Mmmmmm."

"Do you want more?" Bucky whispers in Steve's ear and Steve's eager to agree, "Yes, fuck, yes, more."

Steve can feel Bucky push against his shoulders and turn them around on the small couch so he is now on top. Steve starts to ask what he's doing but Bucky's fingers on his lips stop him. It seems like Bucky is taking the lead tonight.

"Have you ever been with anyone?" Bucky asks quietly as his other hand moves to the zipper of Steve's trousers and slides the zipper down. Steve swallows on nothing and shakes his head at the same moment as Bucky's deft fingers unbutton his trousers and his hand sneaks inside. The feel of the back of Bucky's hand brushing against his rock hard dick almost makes him not catch the next question, "So, no one's ever touched you?" Again Steve shakes his head. "Only _you_ have ever touched your dick?" Bucky continues the questions as he turns his hand around and it is his palm now moving up and down. Steve nods and opens his mouth in a silent gasp.

Bucky slides the fingers that are covering Steve's mouth and gently pushes one and then two fingers into Steve's mouth. Steve's slowly going crazy and he needs more. He closes the mouth around the fingers and sucks them further in, rubbing his tongue against them.

"Ah, yes. Soon." Bucky gasps and then moves the fingers out of Steve's mouth. They both look at the wet fingers and at each other. Bucky then slowly moves his fingers to his own mouth and sucks on them tasting Steve there. "Next time, promise."

He winks at Steve and then moves down to his crotch. He carefully lowers first Steve's trousers and then his boxer briefs over his hard dick and down his legs and off, discarding them somewhere by the couch. And the next thing Steve is aware of is that he must have died because what he is feeling is incredible.

He can feel Bucky's nose rubbing along his length. Every now and then his tongue landing tiny licks that are then followed by a breath that is both warm and cold. He can feel Bucky's fingers feather-light as they, too, travel from the base to the tip. The tongue and the fingers meet at the tip and as the tongue licks and slicks the head, the fingers circle and start the path back.

The lightness of the touch drives Steve mad. He needs more, he wants more and he realizes he hasn't been silent all this time. There are pleads coming out of his mouth, interrupted by endearments and curses. "please, baby… no… more… fuck… please… I need… oh, fuck…"

"What do you want? This?" and Bucky's fingers apply more pressure at the base and Steve arches his back and utters a single long _fuck._ "Ok, love."

Bucky lets more saliva gather around his fingers and he starts the movement, tempo slow and maddening. As he pumps and twists, his mouth return to the tip and Steve is enveloped in Bucky's mouth. He can feel the vibrations of Bucky's moan as Steve grips his hair.

"Please, Bucky… I can't… too much." Steve is almost embarrassed how quickly he's been brought to the verge but it seems that Bucky doesn't mind. The tempo of his fingers increases and for a moment he removes his mouth off Steve and encourages him, "Come, Steve, yes." Then his mouth is back on him, sucking and licking in rhythm with the strokes.

The orgasm hits him all at once, from the tip of his toes to his lips. He can feel every part of his body getting ready, preparing for the inevitable release. A moment before he knows he's cuming, Steve grips Bucky's hair harder trying to move his head away but Bucky resists and growls, and Steve can't help himself. He cums hard in Bucky's mouth and he can feel Bucky swallowing and sucking and licking every drop from him. When his orgasm ends he collapses back onto the couch, limp, unable to think, let alone move. He can feel Bucky's licks continue teasingly along the softening flesh of his dick.

As Steve is trying to get back to reality he can feel Bucky moving and he opens one eye to see what he's doing. He sees Bucky grab his shirt and wipe his face and hand clean of the saliva. He closes his eyes again and soon feels Bucky climb back next to him and lay his head against his chest. Steve looks down towards Bucky and can see an enormous smile on his face, his hair a dishevelled halo around his head. "You're beautiful" Steve speaks without thinking. When he realizes what he's said he waits for Bucky's response.

He doesn't need to wait long, "_beautiful_?" Bucky asks sleepily.

Steve considers his reply but then decides to just go with what he said and thought first, "yes, beautiful. The most beautiful thing I've ever had the privilege of laying my eyes upon."


	7. Chapter 7

Waking up next to Bucky is at once familiar and completely new. Steve's woken up next to Bucky countless times when they were young, but this time it is different. This time he doesn't need to fear that Bucky will wake up and move away. He can touch him and not fear rejection. He doesn't need to pay attention to Bucky's breathing, trying to see if he would wake up. He can revel in the feeling of skin touching skin, he can listen to Bucky's heart, he can breathe him in.

As much as he would love to stay and wait for Bucky to wake up, as much as he would like to see the love in his eyes again, one look at the clock on the wall tells him that he needs to go in order to avoid suspicion at the parish.

He carefully extracts himself off the couch, being trying not to disturb Bucky. He goes to the bathroom and splashes water against his face to wake up. He looks himself in the mirror and he is surprised that the enormous change that has happened does not show in his reflection in the mirror. He half expected there to be something, something that would be proof of the transformation he'd gone through. But there is nothing. It's the same face greeting him, the same tired eyes, the same blond hair (grant it, a little more messed up than usual), the same skin, the same lips.

When he returns to the living room he is once again struck by just how beautiful Bucky is. Bucky would insist, he is sure, that he is handsome, not beautiful, but to Steve, he is Beauty come to life. The lines of his face as he smiles in his sleep, the angles of his shoulders, the slight lines of his ribs cutting across his chest, the dark circle around his nipples, the hips that stick out, the line of hair leading to his crotch, and that tattooed and scarred hand laid by his head – all of it beautiful.

He approaches the couch, sits down by it, and allows himself a little more time with Bucky. He runs his fingers through Bucky's hair, brushing it back away from his face, smiling and the soft moan that escapes Bucky. He traces the soft lips and remembers all the places those lips had been the previous night. He shakes his head to chase those memories away because if he does not he will never leave the apartment.

He gets up, gives Bucky the softest kiss he can and whispers "I love you." He looks around for a piece of paper and a pen to leave a message for Bucky. Once the message is written and laid against the piano, Steve gathers his clothes, puts them on quietly and leaves the apartment lost in thought.

Walking back to the parish the torrent of thoughts hits him so hard that a couple of times he has to stop and lean against a wall to calm down. When he does that he closes his eyes and tries to think clearly. He knows that the things he'd done the previous night go against everything he's ever promised himself and God. But he also knows that last night for the first time in his life he was completely honest. In that moment when he'd confessed his love to Bucky, he ended a lifetime of lies and deceit. He felt like an enormous weight was lifted from off his soul. But that was last night.

In the harsh light of the dawn he realizes that the weight was not lifted, but only replaced by an equal one. He feels the consequences of his actions. He realizes that he's broken his vows, he'd sinned. All this causes him again to stop in the middle of the street and lean against a wall. He takes a deep breath and looks up at the skies asking God for help, for advice. He needs someone to tell him what to do next.

He realizes that whatever his personal problems and torments are he is not simply a man who can do whatever he wants without any care about the people around. He is a priest and his life is lived for others more than for himself. He has duties and responsibilities he has to meet.

When he enters his room he has made a decision: for now, for this morning, things will stay the same, he will be a priest, but in the afternoon he will talk to his confessor and mentor, father Bruce. After that talk he will know what to do next.

Bucky wakes up and is a bit confused at first, but then the events from last night come pouring back. He's spent the night with Steve. He'd said "I love you" and Steve said it back. He'd kissed him, tasted him, felt him. They'd fallen asleep wrapped around each other with a whispered "Good night, love" from Steve.

It was by far the best night of Bucky's life, and he had hoped the same would continue this morning, but again he is alone. He truly hoped to wake up with Steve's arms around him, but it seems that Steve did not feel the same. The emptiness of the couch hits him hard. He'd woken up alone all this time, so this is not new for Bucky, but this time he had hoped it would be different. And the loss of the hope for company affects him harder than he thought it would.

Bucky's initially good mood quickly deflates. "Not even a goodbye! Idiot, sneaking out like a thief in the night!" He gets up and gathers his clothes. On his way to the bathroom in the corner of his eye he notices a sheet of paper on the piano.

Dearest B

First of all, I love you.

Do you know that you smile when you sleep? And that you make this quiet sound when I run my fingers through your hair? Well, you do…

What I wouldn't give to be able to be there when you wake up to see your beautiful eyes, to hear your voice, to kiss you again… but I can't stay.

I'll call you later.

Your S

A small smile tugs at his mouth and he decides that things still can get better, that his fantasy of waking up with Steve is still a possibility.

AN – sorry this chapter was short, had a strange week. Hopefully a longer chapter (perhaps steamy) should be out by Wednesday.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve once again finds himself standing in front of a door unable to knock. This time it is Father Bruce's office door. He stands there counting his breaths. He is at 59 and his heart is still beating like crazy.

Steve had spent the entire morning trying not to think about Bucky. He tried everything to keep his thoughts on his duties, but he failed miserably. Everything he did reminded him of Bucky, everything he touched reminded him of Bucky's skin, every sound reminded him of the noises Bucky made last night. Eventually he gave up and just sat in his room waiting until it was time to go meet Father Bruce.

And now that he was here he couldn't force himself to knock. He knows that the knock will be the beginning of the end. He knows that when he enters the office and starts talking to Bruce he will be saying goodbye to one part of him, one aspect of his life. Perhaps what scares him more than that is that he is still not sure which part of his life he will be saying good bye to.

He takes another breath and continues to count: 68, 69, 70. "No more!" He knocks and it is a bit louder than is polite and is apprehensive of Bruce's reaction. Father Bruce invites him in and when he enters the office he sees him seated at the small corner table, so similar to the one in his own office, waiting for him with a teapot and tea cups. Steve smiles at the fact that Father Bruce knows him so well.

"Father." Steve greets Father Bruce.

"Just Bruce, OK, Steve?" He smiles back at Steve.

"OK, Bruce."

Steve sits at the table and Bruce motions at the tea. Steve nods his head and they both use the time it takes Bruce to pour and prepare the teas to their liking to be quiet and gather their thoughts. Steve accepts the cup and immediately brings it to his lips, enjoying the first, almost scalding sip of the excellent tea. He allows the taste to comfort him and calm him down a bit. He decides that the best way to approach the topic is straightforward.

"For some time now I've had this thing in me, changing me… or perhaps that is not the right word…" Steve runs his finger around the rim of the tea cup and thinks of how to better put his problem into words. Bruce waits patiently.

"I'm reverting to my old self, I think."

"Your old self?" Bruce asks softly.

"The one before all this," Steve grabs the front of his cassock.

"Oh, that old you." Steve just looks at him and nods. "Ok, but I feel like there is more to this than that. That's not the whole story, is it?"

"No." Steve replies simply.

"Could you tell me what the story is?" Bruce asks calmly.

"You've known me for some time and there are things that you already know," Steve says and Bruce nods. "But there are things you don't know. Things that until 24 hours ago I never told anyone. But you need to know them, and I really need your advice." Steve takes a deep breath and begins the story, "Ok, so you know what I was like in high school? I didn't really have many friends, I only had one true friend, James…"

When Steve is done with the first part of the story leading up to his priesthood, Bruce is sitting there looking at him attentively, not a trace of disgust on his face as Steve had feared there would be.

"Now you know the back story of my priesthood. No true calling, I'm afraid, just me bartering with God. Sacrilegious, right?"

"Well, it's not the usual reason for becoming a priest, that's for sure, but not the worst one either."

"But it was a good choice, I feel. It made me feel useful for the first time in my life and not a waste of space. I made a difference, I hope, first with James surviving and then later with helping people."

"Of course you made a difference! And of course you were useful, as you put it, but I don't doubt that you would have been useful outside the Church as well."

Steve shakes his head and is about to argue with Bruce over that but he doesn't allow him, "no, I am sure! I know what kind of a man you are today, and even if you hadn't become a priest I am sure you would have been a comfort to many around you. You are just that type of a man, you see suffering and you can't help yourself, you have to react, you have to try and fix things. And that would be you even if you were a 'civilian.'" Bruce smiles at him and Steve accepts that there is no point in arguing with him.

"As for your bartering with God – I believe in miracles, and I feel you do too. Sometimes the miracles are small and sometimes they are big. Sometimes people pray for them and sometimes they happen even when no one is praying for them. The reasons behind the miracles are unfathomable, just like God is. And in your case, perhaps it was God who guided the hands of the doctors that saved James, I don't know. But I know one thing – even if God did intervene, He is not a merchant. He does not trade in miracles. The only repayment He requires is faith… faith and love. You 'paying' for James' life with your own is not something He asks for, at least that is what I believe in my heart."

Bruce lays a hand over his heart and his lips move in a silent prayer for a second before he continues. "Of course if giving up your life was what you needed at that point, if you needed to remove yourself from that situation in order to believe in the possibility of a miracle, than that is a different thing."

Steve looks at Bruce and he sees genuine compassion written on his face. What surprises him are Bruce's eyes – they are such a contrast to his outward calmness. It is almost as if there is a wild creature hiding inside, waiting for the slightest provocation to be released.

"Steve? Is everything OK?"

"Oh, yeah," Steve fake coughs and says, "sorry, I was just thinking about everything that you've just said. Your reaction was better than the reaction of the last person I told this to." Steve smiles at Bruce who is visibly intrigued by the statement so Steve explains, "James called me an idiot for believing that my actions have effect on other people's fates."

Bruce's laugh resonates in the small office, "Sorry. That's _the_ James?"

"Yes."

"So, he's a realist I see. Well, he is entitled to his opinion. I wouldn't be so certain to say that your actions served no purpose."

They are both quiet for a moment, sipping tea and considering all the things they've just learned. Bruce is the first to talk, "So, fast-forward to today – you are a priest here. So what happened to make you start 'reverting' as you describe it?"

"When I came here, the past kind of started creeping back on me. A little at first, but lately it's been more and more. The thoughts and feelings from before the seminary have returned, stronger now than they ever were before. In addition to all this, James and I started talking again, talking more, I mean. And it was like the past 9 years never even happened. We were again those teenagers who talked about everything. We were those teenagers who understand each other completely. And I again became that young man who was in love with his best friend. And of course, I tried to hide it, but one day I just…"

Steve can't force himself to say to words so Bruce finishes his thought for him, "until one day you just couldn't hide it anymore?"

"Yes… I just… I don't know why, I wasn't thinking, I was just so tired and I… kissed him."

"Oh. And he responded the same way?"

Steve nods and Bruce nods back. Both Steve and Bruce are quiet again, this time for a long while. Steve looks at his hands and picks at his nails and Bruce just looks at him.

"I won't tell you about the possible consequences of your actions, you know them as well as I do. I only want to ask you one thing, but, please, take your time in answering the question, OK?" Steve nods. "Do you love him? Not _like_ or lust after him. I mean LOVE him?"

When Steve hears the question he wants to answer immediately. The "yes" screams in his entire body, but he forces himself to follow Bruce's request. He waits for a while and considers what Bucky truly means for him. He considers the love he feels for him, and he remembers once reading somewhere that love is that feeling where one's happiness is directly and proportionally connected to the happiness of another person. He considers what his life would be like if Bucky was not happy, would he feel it, and again the answer is a resounding "yes".

Steve directs his thoughts to God in a silent prayer, takes a deep breath, and as he exhales he says softly, "Yes, with all my heart."

Bruce's reaction again surprises Steve, he smiles the biggest simile Steve's ever seen on him. "That makes the situation somewhat easier, doesn't it?"

"Easier?"

"Yes, of course! A priest is a man who loves _God _with his whole heart, and you can't say that. All the love you have, you've given to James. And in my opinion that is just as beautiful as loving God." Steve is struck speechless and Bruce decides to explain his statement some more, "you remember what the main commandment Jesus left us is, right? 'Love each other.' Now, you tried to focus that love on Him, to serve Him, to dedicate your life to His glory, but it seems like your heart wasn't yours to give. It already belonged to another. So it is understandable that now that life's put him back on your path your heart would follow its other half, is it not?"

"But what about my promise? What about my vows?"

"No! Stop! You should not think about that. Your vows are made for life, just like the sacrament is for your entire life, but that doesn't mean that you can't change your path! Consider one thing – being a should fill your entire soul with peace, with this indescribable rightness. Looking at you talk about James and about your love for him, I feel like you only feel that rightness when you are with him, am I right?"

Steve thinks about the times he's spoken with Bucky lately. He thinks about how he felt being touched by Bucky and the answer comes to him immediately, "Yes. There's this fullness of feeling when he's around. Just like there is this emptiness when he's away. There's this pull I feel in the middle of my chest when I think of him and he's not by me."

"Exactly! The thing you now need to consider is whether you want to follow that pull and go after him, or you want to stay here and renounce your heart, renounce your love. I know that the choice is not easy once you look at the life that expects you: in one case you risk being rejected by the society, and in the other case you risk trying to survive without your heart. If you decide on remaining a priest, you should be aware that it will be extremely difficult. Your heart belongs to James, and living without him would not be living, not really, it will be more like surviving. On the other hand, if you choose to share your life with James there will be difficult times ahead. Our society is still not as accepting of different lifestyles as it should be." Bruce reaches forward and places a hand over Steve's arm. "But, no matter what you choose just know that I will always be there for you, always. And, like before, I urge you to take your time in deciding. Take a day or two at least," Bruce smiles at Steve once more, "Although by the look on your face you might have made up your mind already."

"Well…" Steve smiles. "It means a lot, having your support."

"Always, dear friend. And once you decide, let me know. I'll do everything to help you with what needs to be done to make your choice official."

Steve smiles at Bruce and gets up to leave. He is about to thank Bruce when Bruce steps forward and gives him a warm embrace. The feel of Bruce's arms around him brings tears to Steve's eyes. The fears he had of being rejected disappear completely and are replaced by acceptance. With tears rolling down his cheeks he whispers, "thank you" against Bruce's shoulder, turns around and leaves the office without looking back. If he had looked back he would have noticed that Bruce too was teary-eyed.

When he returns to his room, Steve is set on following Bruce's advice. He will take a day or two to collect his thoughts, to meditate and pray before he makes his final decision. He knows that is the best way to approach a choice this important.

He remembers his written promise to Bucky of calling him and he tries to do it. He dials Bucky's number 5 or 6 times, each time hanging up before he can hear the ringing on the other side. Eventually he gathers his strength and lets the phone ring.

Bucky picks up on the first ring, "Steve?"

"Yes, it's me."

"I feared you might not call… I was worried a bit."

"I had to think about some things."

"Think about things?"

"Yes. And I realized I needed advice. I spoke to a friend of mine, to another priest about what I'm going through."

"Did you mention me?"

Steve is unsure how to answer this at first, but then he decides that he should be honest with Bucky, "Yes. I trust him completely and I know that he will not repeat anything to anyone, so you don't have to fear anyone else finding out about this."

"That wasn't what I worried about. I just don't want you to be hurt by his reaction to your liking a guy, that's all."

"Well, he was surprisingly supportive. He's not your typical priest. He's strange, but that's why I went to him for advice. He's a very good listener."

"And what advice did he give you?"

"He advised me to take some time to think about everything and then make my decision, and that's why I called."

"Oh," Steve can hear disappointment in Bucky's voice.

"Don't be like that, please. It's not an easy decision to make. You know I love you, you are my life. I just need some time to make peace with this decision. I just need some time, OK?"

"OK."

Steve is a bit disappointed by Bucky's one word reply and he decides that Bucky too might need some time, "Ok, I'll call soon. Love you."

There is a quiet, "I love you too," from the other side and then the line disconnects.

Steve is left holding the phone and looking at it in wonder. He feels like something big has just happened, but he doesn't know what. He decides it's just a creation of his worried mind and he tries to ignore the nagging feeling inside his heart.

He goes to bed and after his usual nightly prayer he waits for sleep to come, but it does not come. He just lies awake in bed, staring at the darkness. His mind is attacked by images of Bucky, but not the same images as always. This time when he reaches for Bucky's hand it slips from his grip. Each image has Bucky further and further away from him.

Somewhere around 3 PM he can't take it anymore. He gets dressed in a hurry, forgoing his cassock and putting on a coat instead. He runs to Bucky's apartment through snow, and almost falls down on the slippery sidewalk twice on the way. When he gets to the apartment he hears piano playing inside and smiles. He waits a minute to catch his breath and is so amazed by the sounds he hears he decides to enjoy the concert a bit longer. He sits on the floor, back and head against the door, his eyes closed. Bucky's playing is not perfect, at moments there are some serious mistakes, fingers fumbling and slipping over the keys during the more difficult passages, but it is still the most moving music he's ever heard. Bucky has always had that skill – he was always an expert in putting all his emotions in his playing.

Steve is so carried away by the music and the emotions of love it awakes in him that he does not notice the music stop and the footsteps approach the door. As the door open suddenly he just crashes on the floor by Bucky's feet.

To say that Bucky was surprised at finding Steve at his door would be an understatement, "What the f…"

Steve looks up at Bucky with a slight blush spreading over his cheeks, "Hi?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Well," Steve replies as he shuffles up from the floor, dusting his trousers off, "I felt this strange thing, I just needed to see you, needed to be close, so I came."

"Well, come in then," Bucky replies and Steve notices that his speech is a bit slurred. Steve looks around the apartment and is taken aback. Bucky is not the tidiest person, but the apartment looks like a tornado's been through it. There are papers and books all over the floor, photo frames are knocked off the shelves, and the usually neatly stacked sheet music covers the entire piano. Steve also notices an empty bottle of whiskey by the piano.

Steve steps closer to Bucky and asks worriedly, "Is everything OK, Bucky? What's wrong?"

Bucky moves away from Steve, "OK? No, everything is not OK! How could it be OK when you're leaving again?!"

Steve is so taken aback by Bucky's tone that he can't say anything and Bucky uses that to continue his yelling, "I knew it! I knew that you would leave me for Him, for God again. I could never measure up to Him, could I. Well, you should go then, if you're so weak! You coward! Why can't you for once fight for what you want? Why can't you once, just once allow yourself to be happy!? Well, I'll make things easier for you, I'll leave! You can stay here, I don't want to. I'd just be reminded of what could have been!"

"Stop! Bucky, would you stop for a second and let me explain?" Steve says loud enough so Bucky can hear and stop talking.

Steve takes this to be a good sign and he again moves closer to Bucky, but Bucky still moves away. Soon Bucky's back is against the wall and Steve can finally come close enough to touch him. Steve reaches to cup Bucky's face in his hand but he moves his head away. Steve decides not to take this anymore and just embraces Bucky. Bucky fights the hold for few moments and tries to punch Steve but he doesn't allow him, he is stronger now than he was when they were kids. Steve holds Bucky's head so he can whisper in his ear,"I love you. I'm not going anywhere. Can't you see it? I can't live without you. When I'm away I can't breathe! How could I ever leave?"

Steve places a soft kiss below Bucky's ear and Bucky again starts to struggle to free himself from the embrace, "No, you're just saying that, but when you…"

Steve turns Bucky's head and silences him with a kiss. When he ends the kiss he looks Bucky in the eyes and says firmly, "I LOVE you, James Bucky Buchanan. I have loved you all my life and I will spend the rest of my life loving you." He kisses him again and when he can feel Bucky relaxing in his arms Steve smiles and says, "you're stuck with me, Bucky, I'm not leaving your side ever again."

Bucky swallows hard and tries to speak but Steve just places a finger on his lips and says, "Please, baby, can we just sleep and talk tomorrow? I just want to hold you."

Anger and annoyance again can be seen on Bucky's face, "what? So you can sneak out after a couple of hours again and leave me alone like yesterday?"

Steve kisses him again, "no, you stubborn fool. I'll be here when you wake up tomorrow." Steve gives him another peck on the lips, "and the day after that," another peck, "and every day for the rest of our lives. No, I'm really tired, love, let's go to bed."

AN – thank you all for your patience and for your comments. There is only one chapter left (they have to consume their love, after all) and that chapter should be out on Sunday.


	9. Chapter 9

AN - there were some name mixups, should be fixed now. Enjoy

Bucky wakes up to someone running their fingers through his hair, scratching lightly against his scalp. He smiles when he remembers the events from the previous night. "You're here?" he says, the sleepiness and the whiskey from last night making his voice rough.

"I said I'd be here today, didn't I?"

"I seem to remember you mentioning something about being here for longer than just today. Did I dream that?" Bucky asks as he moves back to snuggle closer to Steve.

"No, you didn't dream that. I'll be here forever if that's what you want."

Bucky can sense the insecurity creeping into Steve's voice and he turns around so he can look Steve in the eyes when he says "I want you here, waking up next to me forever. And never doubt that."

Bucky caresses Steve and gives him a chaste kiss before returning to snuggling closer. He nuzzles against Steve's neck, breathing in his scent, allowing Steve to take over all of his senses. He places soft kisses over Steve's neck and chest. He can hear and feel the moan that comes from Steve. Steve's arms pull Bucky closer, holding him tight. They both smile and are soon asleep again.

The next time Bucky wakes up is to an empty bed. For a fleeting moment he feels panic but then he hears banging from the kitchen. He gets up and follows the sounds of pans and cutlery drawers being opened and closed. He doesn't announce his being in the kitchen for a few seconds, enjoying seeing Steve cook.

"Domestic already?" Bucky teases Steve.

Steve turns around and there's annoyance written all over his face, "Where do you keep your whisk, man?" Bucky just looks at him in amusement. "You do have a whisk?" Steve asks again, eggs already in a bowl and the melting butter in a pan already on the stove.

"Nope. I just use a fork."

"Neanderthal!" he turns back to face the pan and whisks the eggs with a fork. "There's coffee ready, grab some while you wait for this. I can't call this breakfast. Your kitchen is like a teenager's kitchen – just snacks and junk food!" Bucky smiles against the cup of coffee as Steve continues his rant, "You do know that there will be some changes here, and soon! Vegetables for one and fruit, and healthy home cooked meals. How did you survive this long?"

Bucky leaves the coffee on the counter and comes behind Steve, embraces him from the back and peppers kisses over his bare back. "You can change whatever you want, just leave my piano area alone and we'll get along just fine. I'll even get you an apron – frying things without protection for your chest – not good."

"Oh, an apron – how 1950s."

"It worked for them, didn't it?"

Soon the eggs are done and the two of them share a plate of eggs sitting next to each other at the counter. Bucky moans with each mouthful and when he sees the effect that is having on Steve he starts exaggerating. Steve tries to keep quiet, but he ends up warning Bucky to stop. They are quiet the rest of the meal, and then Bucky asks, "So what are your plans for today?"

"I need to go to the parish office. There are some people I need to talk to, decisions I need to make official."

Bucky can see that this has Steve worried and he advises Steve to ask Bruce to help. Steve considers to advice for just a second and immediately his face shows relief, "You're right. He did say he would support me. I'll call him after I've done the dishes."

"No, no, no! In this household we believe in a fair distribution of chores. The person who cooks never does the dishes. You call him, I'll clean up."

Steve thanks Bucky with a kiss and reaches for his mobile phone, goes to the living room and dials Father Bruce's number. Bucky starts on the dishes but listens in on Steve's side of the conversation, "Morning Bruce… fine… no, not there…I tried, I really did, but… today… OK, see you then. Bye."

When he hears Steve returns to the kitchen, Bucky is humming a tune. He feels Steve's hands on his hips and Steve's forehead lean against the back of his neck. "So, Bruce agreed to meet you?" Bucky asks and as soon as the words are out of his mouth he realizes his mistake.

"Eavesdropping I see. Well, he wasn't ecstatic that I'd made my decision yesterday, but he was happy for me. He said he'd meet me at the parish offices in an hour and he'll go with me to talk to the appropriate people."

"That's good. He sounds like a real friend."

"He has been an excellent friend these past few years." Steve kisses the back of Bucky's neck and moves away, "I'll grab a shower while you finish this and then I'll be off. I'll call you when I'm done at the parish."

"I'll leave the apartment with you, I have some things I need to do in town, but I should be back by the time you're done at the parish. Steve leaves for the bathroom and Bucky resumes his dish washing.

When he's done with the cleaning he goes to the bedroom and the sight there makes him smile: Steve in just a towel looking at the clothes he wore last night and murmuring something to himself. "Everything OK?"

"Uh, yeah. It's just that I don't usually wear the same underwear two days in a row, and going commando to talk to priests about quitting the priesthood doesn't seem as the best choice."

"Grab one of my pairs. The second drawer from the top," Bucky motions to a chest of drawers by the window. Steve considers the offer for a long while and then opens the drawer and fishes out a pair of purple boxer briefs. Contended, Bucky smiles and leaves to take a shower.

Half an hour later they are both ready to leave the apartment and as they approach the door, Bucky stops Steve, pushes him against the door and attacks him with a passionate kiss.

"Mmmmm, what was that for?" Steve asks a bit dazed.

"Do I need a reason to kiss the man I love?"

"No, but…"

"It was a kiss for good luck. I presume that for some time you won't be OK with PDA. And I didn't want to say goodbye without kissing you."

"Well, now I need to say goodbye as well," Steve smiles mischievously and turns them around, pinning Bucky against the door. Their kisses get more heated and Steve grinds against Bucky's crotch. Bucky moans and curses in his head the fact that they have to leave the apartment.

"This was so not fair, punk!"

"Well, it's a little teaser for later. I promise to continue once I'm back from the conversation." Steve pecks him on the lips once more and they leave the apartment.

Several hours later Bucky's piano playing is interrupted by the ringing of his phone.

"Hello."

"Hey. So, I'm done with all this and my things are ready, so…"

"OK, I'm home. Do you need me to come over and help you move your things here?"

"Oh."

"You did mean to move in here? I just assumed from our conversation this morning." Bucky tries to remember their conversation and realizes that he never officially asked Steve to move in. He slaps his forehead when he hears Steve reply.

"Oh, I didn't know. OK. No need to come. We'll be there in 20 minutes."

"We?"

"Father Bruce and I. He'll help me get my things over there." Bucky fights the small voice of jealousy rearing its head. "He wants to meet you if that's ok."

"Oh, yeah, of course. Just ring the bell."

"Ok."

"And for the future I've made an extra key for you."

"You've made me a key?" Bucky can hear the smile in Steve's tone.

"Yeah. See you soon, love."

"See you, love."

Bucky hangs up and looks around the apartment trying to see if there's anything left to put away or tidy up. He remembers the present he got for Steve that he's placed on the kitchen counter and he decides to hide it away and give it to Steve once they are alone.

Half an hour later there is a knock at the door and when he opens the door Bucky sees a very handsome man a couple of years older than him with slightly greying, curly hair a mess above piercing eyes. The man smiles at Bucky and extends his hand for a handshake, "Hi, you must be James."

"I must?"

"Yes. Steve's description was perfect, especially the eyes. Ask him to describe you one day and you'll see." He says mysteriously and lets himself into the apartment pulling a suitcase behind him, leaving a slightly stunned Bucky at the door.

Bucky is brought back to the moment by the shuffling sounds from down the corridor. He sees Steve pushing a box towards the apartment. When Steve looks up Bucky is surprised by the worn out look of him. He looks exhausted. Like ha hasn't had a good night's sleep in ages, and that is when he realizes that it's probably the case. He knows for sure that the last week alone his sleep pattern has been awful. He makes a mental note to drag Steve to bed as soon as Bruce leaves.

"Hey," Bucky whispers just before Steve reaches the apartment door and kisses him gently.

"Hey"

"Welcome home." Bucky smiles and Steve attempts to smile back but it only serves to enhance the dark circles under his eyes.

"That sounds good."

"What? Home?"

"Yes." Steve kisses Bucky on the cheek and stays like that, cheek to cheek, breathing for a moment before entering the apartment and going straight for the bedroom with the box.

In the apartment Bruce is by the piano, leafing through the sheet music. Bucky is a bit annoyed that he's not alone with Steve, but he decides to be polite for a while at least, and he asks Bruce "Do you play?"

"Oh, no. I'm not really the artist type. I'm more of a scientist; maths, physics, chemistry that's really my thing. But I heat from Steve that you play beautifully."

"The rumours about my skills have been greatly exaggerated. You know Steve."

"I do, and that's why I don't think he exaggerated when he said that your playing is the most beautiful thing he's ever heard." Bruce smiles warmly and all the hostility Bucky might have felt towards him melts. He sees that this man truly cares about Steve.

They are both startled a bit when they hear the bedroom door close and see that Steve's stayed in the bedroom. Bucky is worried a bit and he sees the same worry on Bruce's face. Bucky begins to thank Bruce but he stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Bruce steps closer and whispers "No, no need to tank me. Steve will tell you in detail how things went today, but I just… the talk really exhausted him. The people at the parish didn't take his decision well, as was to be expected since Steve was such a promising priest."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And he will might seem very strange and distant today, if he does, I know that you will not allow him to retreat into himself. Just do what you do best, be the man he loves and things will be ok. Also he should sleep.

"Yes, I noticed that. I'll make sure to get him to bed as soon as we're alone."

Bruce laughs a booming laugh, "Subtle!"

"Well, we might as well start getting to know each other straight away – I'm Bucky, subtle as a sledge hammer."

"Since we're getting to know each other, there's one thing you need to know about me – I'm fiercely protective of the people I care about, and I care about Steve, a lot." Bucky is a bit surprised by the _big brother _speech and not a little frightened by the look in Bruce's eyes. He accepts the warning with a nod of his head.

Steve comes out of the bedroom and Bruce starts saying goodbye. "Call me if you need anything and get some rest." Steve and Bruce hug and then Bruce leaves.

Bucky looks at Steve, takes his hand and leads him into the bedroom without speaking a word. They both strip to their underwear and settle in the middle of the bed falling asleep in each other's arms.

Bucky is again awoken by Steve's touches – this time he is tracing his tattoos and scars on his left arm. He doesn't open his eyes, but quietly asks, "You really like them, don't you?"

"Mhmmmmm," Steve replies and starts kissing Bucky's shoulder and the angry scars there. "How soon after the accident did you start adding the tattoos?"

"Not right away. I hated the arm at first. Strange, right? Hating a part of your body. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror." Bucky can feel Steve stop the kisses for a while and then resume them when he continued the story. "The scars were an awful reminder of everything that had happened, of everything I'd lost. But when I began remembering the accident and after I've spent some time wallowing in my own despair I met this tattoo artist and she just came to me with this doodle she made after seeing my scars. And it sort of went from there. I think I still have the doodle somewhere around. "

"And what happened to the tattoo artist?"

Bucky finally opens his eyes and is met with the inquisitive blue of Steve's eyes. "Jealous?" Steve looks away as if ashamed and Bucky replies, "No need to be jealous, love. We did hook up a couple of times, but that was just a phase I needed to go through… She was the opposite of you and I thought that might get you out of my system."

"The opposite of me?"

"Not just because she was a woman. There was just something about her… she was this loud, dark haired, tattooed, pierced storm of a woman that just took over every room she entered."

"Oh, in that way. I get it."

"I just needed something to get my mind off of you, off of your leaving me, abandoning me to my pain and nightmares."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah, almost every night for a while." Something in Steve's eyes makes Bucky ask in turn, "You?"

"Yes. For a long while afterwards I didn't really sleep, the nightmares were… let's just say that they weren't pleasant."

They are quiet, each in their own thoughts. Steve returns to kissing the scars and lays a hand in the middle of Bucky's chest, right above his heart. Bucky covers Steve's hand with his own, intertwines their fingers and brings their hands up to his lips to kiss the palm of Steve's hand. Steve reacts by moving his kisses up Bucky's shoulder to his neck. He shuffles on the bed so he is above Bucky, his weight pressing against Bucky.

Steve's kisses become more passionate and Bucky moans in pleasure. Steve takes advantage of Bucky's mouth being open to push a finger in his mouth but stops unsure of how Bucky will react. Bucky closes his lips around Steve's finger and starts to suck it further in all the time keeping the eye contact. Steve looks in fascination at his finger disappearing into Bucky's mouth, but when Bucky begins to massage the finger with his tongue Steve yanks the hand away and kisses Bucky, his tongue taking the place of his finger.

Steve again changes position and is now fully between Bucky's legs, rubbing his cloth covered cock against Bucky's. The presence of cloth between the two of them drives Bucky mad, but he decides against pushing Steve, he allows Steve to set the pace.

Steve's kisses again move to Bucky's neck and that special spot that makes Bucky's toes curl in pleasure. "You're _very _good at this, considering."

"Considering?"

"Considering your lack of experience."

"Well, I do lack practical experience but my imagination has been in overdrive for a while now. And there are so many things…"

"Things?"

"Things I want to try, things I want you to show me, to teach me."

This intrigues Bucky and he realizes this will be a good way to discover what exactly Steve is ready for. "Tell me."

"I want to learn everything. I want to learn every part of you, try out everything that brings you pleasure. I want to feel everything…"

"Want to start now?"

"Mhmmmmmm," Steve replies as he returns to kissing and sucking on Bucky's neck.

"Tell me." Steve stops and looks at Bucky. "Tell me what you want to try, what you want to learn today." Steve is quiet but Bucky insists, "I can't know what you want if you don't tell me."

"Well, I want to try…" Bucky can't understand the last part of the sentence because Steve says it so quietly.

Bucky flips their position and he is now above Steve. He kisses Steve and whispers against his lips, "I love you. There is nothing you can't tell me, please." He gives Steve another kiss and then looks him in the eyes and waits.

Steve gathers his courage and this time his voice is a little bit louder, "I want to know what sex feels like."

Bucky closes his eyes when he hears the words. He kisses Steve deeply before responding, "I can show you that. But you 're not small, so I might need some preparation, I can do it myself…"

Steve puts his fingers against Bucky's mouth to stop him, "You don't understand. I meant… I want to… I want to feel you…" Bucky doesn't get it at first but when he does his eyes open in surprise. "If that's ok with you, if you want to."

Bucky swallows hard and answers, "Of course I want it. I just didn't…" Bucky shakes his head and kisses Steve.

"So, you'll show me?"

"Oh, yes." Bucky says with a smile and moves to the night stand to take out lube and a condom. He places them by Steve's hip and settles between Steve's legs. He kisses Steve once on the lips and then moves over his neck to his chest and his dark nipples. He spends some time kissing, sucking and nibbling on the nipples, enjoying the sounds Steve makes.

He moves to the waistband of Steve's boxer briefs and traces a line of kisses from one hip to the other. His fingers sneak under the waistband and he starts to tug the underwear down. When Steve's dick is revealed Bucky takes some time to appreciate it. The first time he was this close to it they were in a badly lit room. Now in full daylight Bucky can see every detail: the pale blown curly hairs at the base of it, the veins raised against the hard flesh, the slightly darker tip with a glistening drop of precum sliding down. Bucky licks the drop off and moans at the taste and the memory of the blowjob from the other night.

Steve moans louder when he feels Bucky's tongue on his dick and Bucky is almost sad he will not be able to repeat what they did the last time. He kisses the tip once, looks up at Steve and whispers, "I will need to prepare you, so just relax and try and enjoy what comes next, OK love?"

Steve doesn't reply and Bucky is worried he might have changed his mind. "Steve?"

"Oh, yes, relax and enjoy, OK."

Bucky returns his attention to preparing Steve. He rearranges Steve's legs, pushing them up the bed, bending at the knees, revealing Steve's puckered entrance. He squeezes a nice amount of lube on hi forefinger and just as he envelops the tip of Steve's dick in his mouth he starts circling Steve's hole, spreading the lube. He can feel Steve clench a bit but he soon relaxes.

Bucky rubs the dick with his tongue and sucks a bit harder just as he pushes the finger in past the first knuckle. He keeps the finger still for a moment, allowing Steve to get accustomed to the intrusion. "OK, love?" he asks and Steve just nods. Bucky soon feels Steve relax the muscles around his finger and he slowly starts pushing the finger further in. Bucky keeps the eye contact as he starts moving the finger in and out and he can see the moment when Steve starts enjoying the slight stretch that comes each time the knuckle passes the rim. Steve's eyes lose focus and his moans get louder.

When Steve starts moving in time with the movements of Bucky's finger, Bucky knows it's time for another finger. He doesn't warn Steve, but just places the other finger next to the first one and lets Steve push himself on both. Steve stops mid-push, takes a breath and continues. Bucky smiles around the dick which is still in his mouth and gives Steve a hard suck as a reward.

After a minute of scissoring Bucky removes mouth from Steve's dick and says gently, "You're doing amazing, love. Just one more, OK?"

"Mhmmmm, yes" Steve moans as he pushes on Bucky's fingers.

Steve places the third finger by the entrance and Steve moves onto the fingers without stopping this time. Now it's Bucky's time to moan. The pressure around his fingers is amazing, and his brain immediately makes him imagine what it would feel around his now painfully hard dick.

He can't wait anymore. He removes the fingers, takes his boxer briefs off and cleans his fingers against them. He puts on the condom, slicks his dick with lube and settles between Steve's legs. He is once more face to face with Steve and he can't believe how lucky he is. He has dreamed about this moment his whole life, and to have it finally happen, he almost feels the need to pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming.

Bucky is about to kiss Steve when Steve says, "I love you, more than anything." The look in Steve's eyes makes entire body shake, "I love you too, darling, more than anything."

They kiss softly and Bucky guides his dick to Steve's entrance, rubs the head once around the rim and starts pushing in. Steve is still for a moment and then he too starts pushing. Once the tip is in, Bucky's eyes roll back and he moans in pleasure.

Bucky starts moving in and out, and with each push he goes further in and Steve's moans get louder. Bucky knows that the first time can be painful, but the sounds that Steve makes and the look on his face show him that the man he loves was made to be a bottom. After realizing this Bucky is completely lost. Mid-thrust he can feel Steve's hands on his hips urging him on, urging him to move faster, thrust harder. Steve obliges and is soon all the way in.

Their movements make Steve's dick rub against Bucky's stomach but Bucky knows it is not enough. His hand moves between their bodies and as he puts his hand on Steve's dick Steve arches his back and responds loudly, "Yes, mmmm, yes!"

Bucky moves his hand in rhythm with his thrusts and soon they are both close to cuming. Bucky moves his lips to Steve's ear and breathes, "Fuck, you feel so good. I love you so much, so much." And that is all that Steve needs. He cums all over his stomach and Bucky's hand. Bucky moves faster, enjoying the feel of Steve's muscles contracting around his dick and he cums after a few thrusts.

Bucky collapses by Steve, exhausted, his softening dick slipping out of Steve and Steve's cum already drying on his hand. He does not care. He has just had the most powerful orgasm of his life and his brain is fried.

Bucky is stirred from his post-orgasmic bliss by Steve's voice, "Is is always like this?"

"Ha?"

"So… so… much?"

Bucky tries to understand what Steve is asking him and fails. He tries to form a real question and fails at that too, to he replies in the same eloquent way, "Ha?"

"It was just so… so much… It is like you were everywhere… you were all around me, I could feel you in my body, in my mind… just… is it always like that?"

"It's never been like this for me before, so we'll have to try again and see."

"Oh, OK. Love you, Bucky."

"Love you too, Steve." Fighting the sleep away Bucky says, "Remind me to give you your moving in present later."

Bucky can feel Steve laugh a bit before asking, "This was not it?"

"No. You'll get it later, now sleep."

"OK."

"A whisk?"

Steve's loud voice and laughter wake Bucky up. He makes a silent oath to make Steve into a late sleeper like he is, this early waking is not good for him. He opens his eyes and he sees Steve before him wearing just underwear and holding the new whisk, the bow still on it.

"I see you've found your moving in present."

"A whisk?"

"Yea, welcome home, darling."

Steve carefully places the whisk on the night stand and joins Bucky in bed.

The End

So, this is the end of this story. I would like to thank all of you who commented and supported me from the start of the story.

Ever since seeing the Winter Soldier I have been drawn into the world of these two characters. Their story of loss for some reason really affected me and this is the result.

If anyone has found themselves offended by anything in this story, I am sorry, it truly was not my intention.

Those who liked this story – thank you again. I'm not sure if I would have ever finished it without your support.

This is the longest thing I've ever written, and the first multichapter fic I've ever finished. There are some more fics on the way – I need to start finishing things. I can't promise they will be Steve-Bucky, however. I will return to them, that's for sure, but I think that the next story (oneshot I think) will be Sebastian-OC, so if that's your thing be on the lookout.

Good night, dear readers.


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